A Fortnight of Sunday’s.

I rode Halstead in from Hessville, Indiana on a early Sunday Morning ride, unable to bring bicycles unto the SSL (South Shore Line) a rail system that connects the two states by running a route around the base of Lake Michigan, hence the southern shore reference. The ride itself was intense and as unusual as most of my solo adventures tend to be. Michigan Ave. was my starting point and I rode that for about eight miles. Weather in the Midwest is always a peach, and on this morning it was a scant 59 degrees, with a mild drizzle. I just rode it out as hard as usual.

Upon arriving in Hyde Park. My Uncle Herman Thomas and I went to a shop he frequents on 94th. 27.00 was the ticket for a new Seca rear tire including install. All of the skid stops from South Broadway in Denver to those incurred on the NorthSide had taken a toll on the tire needing to be replaced, the shop hand finished quickly and after making plans to meet my Uncle later on in the dayI  I straddled “Black Betty”, rode with traffic, made a right on 84th. and took that  to Halstead, (familiar with the street because of some many advertisements by store owners on eighties radio with 107.5 WGCI ). It was 70 plus
blocks to Downtown. StreetsI’d imagine in every metropolis are being serviced in intervals, and this was no different equaling pot holes, concrete cratered in at points.
Cracks. Whatever! It’s not only the Midwest, it’s Chicago. By the time I get downtown, it’s plenty chilly and one of the five cans out of the six pack I started my voyage with that were remaining had popped. Leaving me soaked after that massive huff of fresh air that I had been taking in since I had gotten on the bike.

Where of all the places I could have ended up at on a sea faring Sunday weather wiseImage, I ended up at a fashion show! Sweating out empathy as the models traipsed across the catwalk mere inches it felt like from the lake. Overall, it was an amazing time, just myself, the bike and a huge city:)

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